


i am found (by these hands)

by missjeonghanista



Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: All my tags are sexual, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, I'm obsessed with this couple soooo, Immortal Husbands, M/M, and then they have sex, this is actually quite wholesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:33:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25687369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missjeonghanista/pseuds/missjeonghanista
Summary: “I see you are still as much of a romantic as when we first found each other.” Yusuf chuckles at that, hugging him closer and nuzzling their noses together.“Ah yes, because what romantic can one be without a sword buried in his lover’s chest?” Their laughter echoes off the tiled walls and Nicolo stares into those brown eyes, shaped crescent from his loud, barking laughter.“No, not with our swords did we find each other.”I just love them so much, yay.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 8
Kudos: 250





	i am found (by these hands)

* * *

_He will never grow old._   
_His hair will never turn gray._   
_His body will not sag and ache._   
_His eyes will stay clear and bright._   
_He will never age._

“You are up too early.” The gruff voice startles him from his thoughts, the dark and handsome man leaning on the door frame of the bathroom.

“Don’t startle me like that.” He chuckles softly, pecking him swiftly but still, those eyebrows stay knitted together and a knowing gaze follows his eyes, willing him to spill his thoughts without a question.

“Are you ready for breakfast?” He dodges instead, side-stepping the body he has known as well as his own to move into their bedroom; the space that has been witness to their entangled fights and the reconciliations. 

“You are thinking too loud, Nicolo.”

The name still warms him up like ladled soup in war camps where their love is reduced to longing glances and seconds stolen away from curious eyes. His lover knows it as well, as he has said when they are pressed as closely together as only immortal lovers can.

_It is my name between your lips, gasped in between these bed sheets with these cheeks, flushed, your eyes…wide in pleasure, it is this, Nicolo, that saves my soul from wandering away in the darkness of time too long for man._

Nicolo has blushed deeper at those words as he whispers _me too_ , between moans and pleas of ‘ _don’t you dare stop_ ’ right into the ears of the man who sees him in ways no one else can even begin to imagine with, their eyes locking into one another in refusal to let the beautiful view before them slips away.

But Nicolo knows the hidden question behind those eyes, the easy way Yusuf knows everything that he tries to hide. Perhaps it is because his lover knows him better than he does, in ways only a lover who has stood by him for a thousand years can. It is thrilling, to be honest; knowing each other so well that they move as if they are one, in fights, in bed, in mind.

That does not mean, though, that Nicolo will willingly volunteer his thoughts to the table. At least not this time.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” The words that slip off Nicolo’s lips are Italian, his mother’s tongue and it is a mistake, isn’t it? Because Yusuf, the keen partner he is, has always known his habit of falling back to what he is most comfortable with when his mind is flying in ten different directions.

“Liar. Come here.” 

Yusuf pulls him close, closer to him until his palm touches upon the sleep-warm chest of his lover, who raises an eyebrow. Nicolo rubs on the skin there, looking where his fine chest hairs bristle against his fingers, the stark black contrasting against his skin.

“Now, Nicolo di Genova, do not be so forward in the morning, I beg you. It is not good for this heart of mine.”

And yet, Yusuf puts his hand over his, letting him feel the soft thuds of his heart under the layers of skin, muscle and bones. The same ones that have been ripped open and flailed as Nicolo puts their foreheads together and wishes to the Gods that bestowed them this curse to let him return once more, and again and again and again.

“Your lips and hands say different things.” He raises an eyebrow and Yusuf chuckles.

“Ahh…perhaps my body is more honest than my words, then.” 

“Perhaps. Perhaps that is why you utter love so easily.” Nicolo starts, the usual temptation of pulling Yusuf into a conversation of teasing words and challenging stares, flaring up in his veins.

Yusuf has never been one to back down, after all.

“But I show you love in other ways, no? Or have you forgotten the way you writhe under me last night?” Nicolo pretends to think, glancing away from him to the small window above the sink where the sun is streaming through, a pale yellow light bathing them.

“Strangely, I do not recall that. Although I do remember a certain someone saying I am worthy of worship. Am I not anymore in the morning?” Yusuf’s gaze turns soft and Nicolo knows he is triumphant. He prepares his heart now because this insufferable romantic will start waxing poetry of him, of them.

Yusuf has always has his ways of words, turning Nicolo red with whispered filthy words and swift fingers, putting him on a pedestal with a shower of praises and honest sounds echoing in whatever space they find themselves entangled in.

“You are worthy of worship any time of the world, love. If I am not so selfish, I would have wished for you to see through my eyes, for what beautiful view they are blessed with everyday. Witness this, the reason I would die a million times, it is only to wake in your arms and run my hands down your spine as you lean into my touch.” 

Nicolo shivers, the tingling sensation of Yusuf’s lone finger as it lingers down his spine, the promise of a touch so familiar and yet, still so intensely thrilling. It is him, the love of his life, his one and only, the half of his whole being, the end of his golden thread, _Yusuf_.

“I see you are still as much of a romantic as when we first found each other.” Yusuf chuckles at that, hugging him closer and nuzzling their noses together.

“Ah yes, because what romantic can one be without a sword buried in his lover’s chest?” Their laughter echoes off the tiled walls and Nicolo stares into those brown eyes, shaped crescent from his loud, barking laughter.

“No, not with our swords did we find each other.” 

Any other person would have been alarmed by how much of Nicolo is consumed by the man before him, how easy it is for him to surrender his whole self for the sake of this man, even without the promise of another gasp of life. But there is a promise in the way Yusuf stares into his eyes after those words spill off his mouth. A promise that anyone with a heart can feel. Yusuf’s promise of doing the same for him.

“No, we did not. But we are found now. I am found, by these hands.” Yusuf kisses his knuckles, eyes never leaving him. 

Nicolo has worried a lot, about him loving men at first, and then about loving **_Yusuf_**. The young Nicolo who uttered no word for a week after a vivid dream of coming undone in the hands of his handsome companion, that young, **young** Nicolo would have spend sleepless nights over those warm, liquid brown eyes. Yet, here he is, with an age men can’t comprehend and a love men can’t imagine.

“We shall never age.” Nicolo sighs, placing his head on that chest as his shoulders relax in his lover’s hug.

“Ah, that’s what you have been thinking about.” Yusuf catches on quickly (too quickly, in Nicolo’s opinion), but he nods anyway.

“Come, love.” Nicolo lets himself getting lead to the bedroom, where Yusuf places him in front of a huge mirror, partly concealed by fabric because Nicolo grows embarrassed of catching glimpses of himself on it during their wild nighttime activities.

“You are not so red now.” Yusuf starts and Nicolo glances away from the mirror to meet those eyes, confused. Yusuf shrugs, nodding towards the mirror.

“The sun of my land did not agree with your skin, and so it burned after so many days of war. The air was blazing hot and we stood on bloody sand. You were weighed down by heavy armor and I was a heartless soldier fighting for my God. Your hair was shorter, mine longer and so on it continues.” Nicolo rests his weight on the solid mass of man back-hugging him and Yusuf kisses the crown of his head once he finishes his thought.

“And so?”

“It means, Nicky, that we age, perhaps not in our hair, our skin or our… ** _desires_**.” Yusuf kisses his neck obscenely, as if he is trying to prove a point that Nicolo has already been a witness to for hundreds of years now.

“But we change with time and so does the world, and I pray, to the Gods that have come and go, to remember you at every moment of time, when in each one you are different and true. I have told you, my love, I am found by these hands, that anchored me to the one, important truth no matter how slowly or quickly the time changes.”

Nicolo feels his heart slowly settles down, like a child coddled with sweets. Yusuf’s words ring with the soft sweetness and sharp knowledge, the two things Nicolo needs when his mind twists itself over in moments like this.

“It is my love and happiness that I am tied to you by fate, for me to know you better than I know myself, is destiny.” 

“You are always so full of beautiful words, are you not?” Nicolo chuckles, growing shy now when Yusuf shows no sign of stopping from telling him just how much he means to the other man, as if years and years of words and deaths for one another has not proven enough.

“I have more and it shall never quite finishes, if for you.” 

“That’s that…” Nicolo laughs, turning around and taking Yusuf’s hands in his own. 

“I don’t think I believe your… _desire_ , is not aging.” He tilts his head to the side, raising his eyebrows as Yusuf bites his lip and shakes his head.

“You forget so easily, darling. Shall I remind you, then?”

* * *

“Now this is just unfair.” Nicolo complains, throwing his head back as Yusuf finishes fastening the end of some scarf on the headboard, alongside his wrists. His lover simply chuckles before giving him a soft peck and pulling away.

“You were the one who told me to do what my heart desires and this…this is just beauty now.”

Somehow, Yusuf’s hungry gaze upon his naked body, with his hands tied over his head, feels liberating and free. Nicolo might be the one tied up, but Yusuf is the one losing control.

“Plus you are already hard just from me watching.” He hums into Nicolo’s ear, licking the outer shell before moving away swiftly.

He knows just as well how to push his lover.

“Will you simply watch then? It would be better to not tie my hands then, if all you are to do is,” Nicolo spread his legs, knowing fully well Yusuf’s eyes are flitting towards down under, between his cheeks pressed against the bed, 

“…watch.”

Yusuf lets go of his breath slowly, knowing the challenge and teasing behind Nicolo’s hooded eyes and he chooses instead to climb on the bed until he is between his lover’s legs. 

“My heart desires for you and so in bed, it wants me to give all that I have to you.”

With that, Yusuf leans down, licking the crown of Nicolo’s penis slowly. The sudden pleasure makes him arch against the bed, his hands pulling on the restraint strongly until the bed creaks under his strength. 

“Yusuf, Yusuf…” Nicolo calls and Yusuf puts a thumb over his dick, an innocent look in his eyes as he meets Nicolo’s eyes.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Yusuf can be a real tease when he wants and Nicolo is sure there are many times when he himself loves that (especially that time in Malta) but he does not want that now.

He wants to be taken and ravaged and pleasured until he no longer has words or thoughts running on his mind. He wants to feel Yusuf in him for days, reminded of what pleasures they find in each other’s touch for at least a week to come.

“I do not want gentle. I do not need gentle right now. Please, just **_ruin_** me. Ruin anything else for me. Make me able to make do with only you. Yusuf. Please.”

He is already ruined by him, no other lover even comes to his mind for hundreds of years now, but a reminder, one that makes him blushes red whenever his mind wanders back to this day, a reminder like _that_ is the one thing he needs now.

“Anything for you, my love.” Yusuf says as if it is an honour, an esteemed duty to pleasure him. Perhaps in the mind of his lover, it is, just as much as Nicolo feels so about him.

Yusuf’s mouth is warm and wet, sucking on his dick in a merciless pace, both for Nicolo who is writhing already, his body twisting and jerking from the shots of white hot pleasure and for Yusuf, holding his hips down with his hand as he looks up between his lashes as if it is not the most obscene scene before Nicolo’s eyes.

He comes undone with a moan of Yusuf’s name and his lover comes up, wiping his spill off the corner of his lips with the back of his hand. Nicolo’s eyes follow Yusuf’s throat as it bobs when he gulps and a wicked grin comes on the face of his angel on Earth. Their lips meet in a passionate thrust, tongue and teeth clacking as their mouths seek the flavor of the other, not having enough even after hundreds and hundreds of years. It is never enough and so the bruising want that flows through them shows in their actions, Yusuf’s hands wandering down Nicolo until it is touching the tight, pink rim puckering in surprise.

“Yusuf, come on. I’m still soft from last night.” Nicolo utters those simple words, as if the violent desire pulsating through Yusuf’s vein hasn’t started to make him crazy yet.

Yusuf pulls of his sweatpants and reach into the bedside for a bottle of lube, pouring it liberally on his dick, already hard and ready since his lips close over his lover’s. He thrusts two fingers, slicky with lube into Nicolo, who arches off the bed, pulling against the scarf violently. He brushes against that sweet spot that made Nicolo cry that one time but now it makes him moan instead.

“Yusuf, if you don’t let me go…” Nicolo starts, panting in the sheer over-stimulation of his body.Yusuf kisses his lips, open-mouthed and wet, moving down to his neck where he sucks bruises into the pale skin and down to his rosy nipples, tweaking them with his other hand and licking with his tongue, all the while his fingers easing his asshole open. 

“Yusuf, please, fuck, Yusuf….oh God…” The moans and Nicolo’s words are hot in Yusuf’s ears, the fuel to his own pleasure. He pulls away from his lover once he has loosened him up enough, and he is indeed right, this…this is beauty.

Nicolo with his hair dishevelled, his face red, his eyes blown wide and his mouth mumbling curses. His neck is littered with purple bruises and his nipples are puffy from Yusuf’s harassment. His dick is hard against his stomach, leaking precum as his body shifts minutely up and down, panting.

“Love, please, please, fuck me. Just fuck me already, fuck..” Nicolo is filthy-mouthed in bed but Yusuf has always liked it when he’s loud.

“Trust me, sweetheart.” Yusuf says sweetly as he positions himself, kissing Nicolo’s deeply as he thrusts into his body. He feels the sweet gasp of his lover against his lips and his hands move blindly to pry apart the scarf from Nicolo’s wrists, those hands flying to hold on him, pressing bruises on his back.

“Yusuf, move.”

“Perhaps I shall stay here for a while. It is nice, after all.” Yusuf does not have the self-restraint to do so at all but it is still fun to tease Nicolo, who scratches on his back and shakes his hips all by himself.

“Come on, Yusuf, show me how we make love. Show me how you love me, yes?” Nicolo rolls his hips and those words, said in desperation and between pants into his ear should not be as tempting as they are. Yusuf after all, can never deny Nicolo of anything.

“How well you know to persuade me.” Yusuf kisses him, a gentle one, a reminder of the sweet, caring and thoughtful man Nicolo has considered his, for this life and all the ones after. 

His lover starts with shallow thrusts, ones that has Nicolo taking in short, staccato breaths as Yusuf’s dick brushes against that one spot in him, where a shock of pleasure courses through his body.

“Yusuf, come on!” He is shouting now, already lost to the world around where loud sex in the morning is frowned upon because all his focus is taken up by the man hovering over him, with that sexy grin on his face as he thrusts harder, faster.

Then, Yusuf moves slightly, raising his leg to rest upon his shoulder and Nicolo feels himself blinded with sweet pleasure as his lover slams onto that spot over and over again. He’s shouting Yusuf’s name and strings of curses are bouncing off the walls but he cannot bring himself to care when his whole body is engulfed in this fire, this high, the most delicious desire of it all.

Yusuf’s other hand wraps around his member as the pace is heightened, the sound of skin slapping skin intertwined with their moans and careless words thrown around. “Yusuf, I’m coming, fuck, fuck, Yusuf!” 

Nicolo knows this is the sweetest death of it all, the numbing two seconds of heaven when everything slips away but him and his lover, connected in heart and body as they must have been as souls. Yusuf spills in him after a moment, resting his head on Nicolo’s chest as he heaves through the temporary high.

“I came in you.” Yusuf starts when they are lying in bed after, looking at one another in that moment of surreal reality, when they realize this is what it feels to be truly bonded with the other half of your soul.

Of course, Yusuf has to ruin the moment. 

“Hush. Do not speak for a second.” Nicolo interrupts, clasping a hand over Yusuf’s mouth. His lover laughs and his beard scratches on his palm so Nicolo pulls away, still with a sated smile on his face.

“I’ll draw a bath. Come.”

And who is Nicolo, to deny his lover?

The bathtub is big enough for two grown men, five feet apart if you will, but still Nicolo leans his head back on Yusuf’s chest, letting the love of his life entangle their legs together.

“One important truth.” Nicolo mumbles after a moment of silence. Yusuf hums in confusion as Nicolo plays with the water, his hands treading on the surface of the water.

“You said I anchored you with one important truth. What is it?” Yusuf laughs as if Nicolo has not gotten the answer that is right in front of his nose and it is perhaps true. Because after all,

“It is **_us_** , Nicky. No matter how quickly or slow the time flows, no matter what happens, you are there and I shall be by your side. I shall never be lost as my place will always be right beside you, until there is nothing left of me. You unsettle and shake me apart, only to piece me together by your hands until we are intertwined like cloth. My one, important truth is that I, Yusuf Al-Kaysani shall live and die for you, Nicolo di Genova.”

If the God has done so many things wrong, the one right that Nicolo can be grateful for is Yusuf.   
His only one, his all and more.

“And so shall I, Yusuf.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I just love them so much, writing about them is so much fun! Tell me what u think about this on the comments, thank you


End file.
